I'll Hide Out In Your Space
by LittleSunset264
Summary: We're all a little unsteady at times and even gloomy; depressed, even. The kids at McDuck manor feel this way at times, too. (Two-shot. Vent-fic. Tw; cutting is involved.)
1. Huey and Dewey

Dewey was sitting in the corner of the bedroom, looking straight ahead blankly.

It was dark in the corner despite the lights illuminating every part of the room. He didn't know why, but he was feeling upset all day. Scratch that, actually, he'd been feeling _depressed_ all day and he doesn't know why.

There wasn't one thing that he could think of that could be the reason for why he felt depressed. Not even for why he felt... Unsteady, if that was the right word to describe it, at that moment.

Maybe it was just one of those days? Who knew, really. He certainly didn't. Dewey hoped it was just one of those days and that it would go away sometime soon.

All day he had gloomy and gruesome thoughts that he never thought he'd be having. They were appearing against his will, and he didn't know how to stop them from coming. He didn't know how to rid his mind of them, either.

He tried his best to not show it. Someone could've picked it up despite his best efforts to hide it, though. If they did pick up that he was off, then he wouldn't be surprised. Somebody was bound to be suspicious and worry about him sooner or later.

If that were to be the case, then it'd most likely be his brothers to know something was wrong. They would go comfort him, whether he wanted it or not.

Right now he wanted to be alone. He wasn't sure why, but he did.

The lights began to flicker a few times. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there. Dewey figured an hour perhaps, although he might have been overestimating. Maybe longer, but he didn't know for sure. He didn't check his phone for the time.

All he knew is that he'd been there for awhile.

Dewey blinked once or twice, he wasn't not sure. He wasn't paying attention to how many times he was blinking. It didn't feel like it mattered, though, keeping count.

He was too lost into his mind for anything.

The room had a chilly atmosphere. He could've sworn he put the heater on, but it didn't seem like that was the case. Maybe it was on and it didn't get the entirety of the room warm, he didn't know.

Dewey didn't care to know right now.

Another tear fell down his face. He wasn't sure when it started, but tears came down his face leaving tear stains on his beak.

His eyes averted to the door as someone opened it. Opening the door made the corner he was in darker and it covered his view of the light on the ceiling.

"Dewey? Are you in here?" A familiar voice asked.

He figures it was Huey who had spoken. He began to stand up, but he accidentally pushed the door closed, giving out his location.

Huey turned around and saw Dewey behind the door. He was correct, though, seeing Huey being right there.

"What are you doing at the corner?" He asked in concern.

He knew something was up all day, and he wanted to check up on Dewey. Huey was the only one who knew something was wrong.

Dewey hesitated, but he answered. "I was doing nothing." He told him while looking at the floor.

"Then why were you sitting there?" Huey questioned, catching his lie.

Yeah no, he caught him there. There's no way he'd get out of this now. He looked at him straight in the eyes. Those calm, patient, concerning eyes that he would forever know and love. Dewey shrugged as he looked back down at the ground.

"I don't know, honestly..." Dewey answered as he sat back down.

Huey sat down next to him and rubbed his back. Dewey sat there, feeling unsure.

"What's wrong, Dewey?" He asked, worried but calmly.

"I've just been feeling depressed all day, and I'm not sure why." Dewey told him. "And I have these horrible thoughts, and I don't know what to do."

Unexpectedly, Huey hugged him and kept him there. The eldest wasn't planning on letting him go any time soon. Dewey hugged back tightly, holding onto him.

He felt like if he didn't, something bad would happen. Very unlikely, but he did so anyways in fear that it could happen.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He quietly asked.

"...I didn't want to worry you or anyone else." He answered, sounding hoarse, surprisingly.

"Well, Dew, I'm worrying now." Huey said, comforting him. "What kind of thoughts, though?"

Dewey didn't answer, feeling hesitant to say anything. He didn't want to tell him about them. Seeing how he wasn't answering, Huey rubbed his back more and hugged him a bit tighter.

Normally, he would tell Huey about his troubles, but he felt that this wasn't something he should hear. Maybe he could handle it, but he didn't want to risk it. He didn't want Huey to know the horrors running through his mind.

"It's fine if you don't want to say. I'm not going to force you." He reassured.

"Thank you..." Dewey whispered.

He rested his head on his shoulder, feeling safe and secure. It was good and important to feel that way, really. After a few minutes, they got up and moved away from the corner.

Dewey's eyes squinted for a bit, as he was there in that part of the room for quite a bit. They walked out of the room, deciding to do something until dinner.

"Hey uh, Hue?" Dewey began.

"Yeah?"

"...Promise me that, you'll never leave me. That you'll stay here with me."

He looked at him for a bit. "...Of course, Dew." He responded as he held his hand.

Huey looked down in confusion. Could be possible that it was part of what he was thinking all day? It looked like he was feeling uncomfortable when he asked, so he wasn't planning on asking again.

What those thoughts were exactly, though, he might never know. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to know.


	2. Louie and Webby

Louie flipped through the channels, to see what was on and whatever.

All the shows that were playing were sad related stuff, from what he could see. Sweat fell down his face. There should be something on that isn't upsetting, anything. But unfortunately, so far, he wasn't finding anything happy.

That was all he needed right now.

His heart started beating faster and faster. Why? There was no reason for it to do so. At least, he hoped not.

Was it because of his mind? Possibly, it would only make sense.

He began to breathe heavily. As he switched through the channels, his hand started to shake slowly. How was there not anything good and positive on? What, was today 'sad movies and shows' day?

Louie sweated more and his heart beat even faster. His hand shook more and more. Finally, though, he found a channel that was good.

He put the remote aside. The duckling took a few deep breaths. In, out, in, and out.

Louie wasn't feeling all that well today. His mind was at it again, making him feel anxious and sad.

He knew that he wasn't a bad kid, because he wasn't, but his mind was saying otherwise. His heart started to beat slower and his breathing was back to normal. Louie wasn't shaking anymore as well.

He hated days like this. Usually his mind wasn't nagging at him, but today... It wasn't letting him be. It wasn't leaving him alone.

Most of the time he kept stuff like this to himself, not wanting to bother anyone or ruin their day with his shit. So because of that, he dealt with it by himself. Not the wisest thing to do, but what was he expecting out of it all?

He was feeling more relaxed now, as he was watching some kid's cartoons. Louie kept his focus on that.

"Hey Louie!" A enthusiastically-toned voice spoke.

It was Webby, who was now sitting next to him. From his guess, she just came into the living room and he didn't hear her.

"Hey Webby." He said in a monotonous manner, not looking away from the TV.

She looked at the TV, then back at him. Webby began to wonder what was so good about the show he was watching that he couldn't look at her. She waved her hand in his face. Louie didn't look away, still.

"Is something wrong?" Webby asked in concern.

"Nah, I'm good." Louie replied, faking a smile.

The rest of his face and the sound of his voice, however, said otherwise. This was giving her mixed signals, so whether he was alright or not was the question.

"Louie, if something's bothering you, you know you can tell me... Right?" She asked, reassuring that she was there for him.

Webby got up to leave, feeling that maybe he wanted to be alone for now. Before she left the room completely, she looked back at Louie. After a few seconds she looked away and went upstairs.

"Wait." Louie said, before she could take a step. "Mind if you stay?"

She ran over to the couch and sat next to him once again. She leaned onto his shoulder, although he stopped her before she could. Webby moved away from Louie a few inches.

He watched the cartoon on TV quite intensely. He was still sweating. It was probably just really hot in the room. There was nothing he could do to cool off if that was the case.

Louie could pull his sleeves up... No, he'd be fine. It wasn't like he was going to die from the heat. He hoped not anyways.

Webby looked at him and noticed his sweat.

"Do you want me to get a shirt you could wear? You seem like you're really hot." Webby offered.

"I'm fine, I don't need a shorter sleeved shirt." He rejected.

He pulled his legs close to his chest and wrapped his arms around those legs. He lowered his head onto his knees. Louie bit his lip, making sure she didn't see it.

"A fan then? Because I can go get one!"

"...Yeah, that sounds good."

Webby got up and bolted out of the room to get the fan. She went through the hallways upstairs and remembered that there's one in the closet.

She opened the closet door and grabbed the fan. While holding the fan she closed the door with her foot. Carefully and slowly, she got the fan downstairs. She almost tripped a few times, but she was alright. She didn't get hurt or anything.

When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she began to hear sobbing.

Almost immediately she put the fan down and runs to the living room in a hurry. She got to the room and saw Louie crying.

Webby ran to him. "What's wrong, Louie? Did I do something wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Webs." He looked up at her. " _I'm_ the problem."

"What do you mean you're 'the problem'? You're a great person, Lou! There's no way you could be a problem!"

"Then explain to me why I feel like I'm being set aside and mainly seen for my bad traits!" He nearly yelled, his voice almost cracking.

Louie hid his face in his legs and cried more. Webby sat down next to him and rubbed his back. She turned the volume for the TV down, close to muting it.

"My mind has been bugging me all day about that and I wanted to get my mind off of it with something funny to watch, but apparently that didn't help, as you can see..." He grossly sniffed the snot back up to his nostril. "And you wanna know why I don't ever pull my sleeves up, and why I wear long sleeves in the first place? Because of these right here."

Before Webby could even answer, he pulled up his right sleeve.

What could be seen on his arm were scars, presumably from knives digging deep into it. Some looked fresh and others looked like they were from awhile ago. Weeks maybe, or even months.

She looked at each and every scar. Smaller cuts were more faint than most of the bigger cuts. Few of the big ones were faint, but the same couldn't be said for the others.

Louie pulled the sleeves back down when she was halfway through examining them all. She couldn't even imagine about his other arm.

Webby looked up at his face with worry and concern.

"Louie... How long have you been doing this to yourself?" She asked.

"A year or two, believe it or not. I stopped for awhile, but I got back to doing it a couple of months ago. I made the cuts bigger and deeper since then." He answered.

She hugged him right after he told her that. It caught him by surprise but he hugged back as much as he could.

"Promise me you won't hurt yourself like this anymore..."

He hesitated to say anything. Louie wasn't sure whether or not he could make a promise. Especially on something like this.

"...I'll promise I'll try, but only if you're there to help."

* * *

A/N: I mainly wrote this to get some emotions I didn't want to have out, and I actually feel a lot better doing this. Don't worry guys, I'm alright. I'm not cutting or anything, if anybody's worried about that. I do not condone it no matter what the reason is, it's bad and dangerous. And if anybody's going through anything like depression, then everything's going to be fine, I promise.

Talk to somebody about it, though. It's not healthy to bottle anything up. I know that from personal experience, it's never good. Do something to get those negative emotions out, bottling it up isn't good at all.

Why am I posting this? Well, I wanted to at least get something posted while I'm writing other things. That and why not? Nobody can ever have enough angst. Unless you don't really like angst, then yeah someone can have enough.

I realize Louie's possibly a bit out of character, but I hope you're able to read this just fine.


End file.
